Blood on My Hands, Pain in My Heart
by msjgatsby
Summary: Mike cares for Paige after the events of 3x09
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Picks up exactly where 3x09 leaves off. So spoilers, I guess if you haven't seen it yet.

* * *

"Johnny, come with me. We're gonna clean this up. Warren!" Briggs' rough bark snaps Mike out of the frozen state he's in, staring numbly at the floor, unable to look at her, unable to think anything other than how this is all his fault.

"Warren, help her." Briggs says roughly.

He grabs Johnny to take him out of the room, presumably to what- get a mop? Mike has no doubts Briggs will have some way of getting rid of the body. His eyes desperately watch them leave. He wants to go with them. He doesn't know how to deal with this. With his guilt. With her, in her white dress, stained with blood. This is a delicate situation and he doesn't trust himself with it. Not anymore.

Once again, it's all his fault. He'd left her there. He'd left her there, and now she was covered in blood staring up at him with tears in her eyes. Toros had found her in her house. Toros had come to her home, and thank god she had defended herself because if she hadn't-

The thought of coming home to a different scene, one where it was her lifeless body on the ground, makes him rush across the room and take her into his arms.

"Shhh… Shhh… It's ok. It's going to be ok. You're safe. I've got you." Mike coos at her, stroking her hair and guiding her away from the body towards the steps.

She doesn't seem to be able to leave the gruesome scene, just curls into his chest. He knows he needs to get her cleaned up, away from all the blood. He doesn't know if she can make it up the stairs like this, so he picks her up in his arms, ignoring the pain in his side. It is barely noticeable compared to the way his heart aches for her. He tries as gently as possible to carry her up the stairs. She hangs limp in his arms, curled up in a ball against his chest.

Mike gets her into the bathroom and carefully sets her down, but the full mirror in front of them greets them. She catches sight of her blood soaked image and the color drains from her face.

Instantly she changes from quietly shaking in his arms, to screaming, ripping at her dress, trying to pull it off her. She kicks the bloodstained garment across the floor, but her hands continue ripping at the lingerie underneath and the shoes on her feet. Mike lets her scream and react, turning politely to the side shielding his eyes. When there's nothing left to tear from her body her nails still rip at her flesh, drawing fresh blood. Fearing for her safety, Mike quickly grabs a towel and wraps it around her, covering her nakedness and crushing her to his chest, pinning her arms down until she finally calms down into heaving sobs.

"Shhh… come on. I've got you. Come on. Not in here." Mike gently leads her away from the blood soaked clothing on the ground. Her screams have turned to quiet sobs and she follows his lead.

He directs her to his room, and sits her on his bed. She sits there numbly, staring catatonic at the floor. He hesitates between the bed and the bathroom, not wanting to leave her alone even for a second. He steps away quickly and turns on the hot water in his shower getting it to a good temperature, before coming back to her. She's sitting in the same spot, staring straight ahead, but she allows Mike to guide her to the shower. He starts to leave to give her privacy, but she just stands outside the shower, lost in her own mind, looking like she might fall over at any second.

Mike quickly strips off his FBI vest and belt, laying his gun to the side. He pulls his shoes and socks quickly off his feet and comes up behind her. He tenderly puts his hands on her bare arms, which are wrapped around herself holding the towel. He doesn't want to spook her. She looks down at his arms like she's surprised to find he's there, then back up at him. The blood spatters on her cheeks are turning pink with her tears.

"Come on. Let's get you cleaned up." He encourages her gently, walking her into the shower carefully and following her in.

The water instantly soaks through Mike's clothes, and the towel wrapped around Paige becomes heavy with moisture and drops to the floor around their feet. Paige stands there blankly, eyes staring vacantly at the tile in front of her, making no move to reach for the towel or cover herself more than she already is. Mike keeps his eyes carefully trained on her face, worried that his every action might be wrong. He wants to help her. He doesn't know how. He doesn't trust himself to. He's messed up so many times. Yet he needs to be there for her. Needs to fix this.

He's not entirely sure what to do, so he reaches out and grabs the shampoo bottle. He tries to act like everything's normal. Like his heart isn't breaking for her. Like he's not drowning in his own guilt. He tries to be strong for her. He pours some in his hands and then brings it up to rub through her soaked hair, being careful to avoid getting suds in her eyes. She closes her eyes when his fingers touch her head.

"Is this ok?" He asks softly, and he realizes he probably should have asked before he was standing there with her naked in front of him, but there is nothing sexual about this. Still, it does leave her in a vulnerable state and he wants to make sure she feels safe. As safe as she can at the moment, at least.

The water is rinsing most of the blood off her skin, but Mike reaches for the lufa to help her clean. He hesitates, worried that he might be crossing a line. Instead he puts the luffa sponge (also hers) in her hand and brings her wrist to her shoulder, demonstrating without words she should wash herself. She takes his cue and begins mindlessly going through the motions of scrubbing herself clean.

Mike turns her to help her rinse the shampoo from her hair. Her mind slowly starts to come back from the fugue state she's been in, and her scrubbing slowly becomes more purposeful. Then forceful. Then desperate. Then manic.

Mike takes a step back, not sure what to do. She's scrubbing her skin so hard that Mike's afraid she might hurt herself. The soft tan skin is turning red and chaffed with the effort, and Mike wraps his arms around hers from behind, trying to still her movements.

"Paige calm down. It's going to be ok. I'm here. Shhhh… Shhhh…" He tries to say in a soothing voice, but he can hear the barely concealed panic.

"I can still feel him on my skin. It won't come off-" Paige sobs to herself as she tries to scrub.

"Here. Try this." Mike says taking the loofa from her and handing her a small hand towel. He takes her hand and guides it slowly from her shoulder down her arm, covering every inch of skin. Her eyes watch the towel cover the skin than reveal it again.

"Better?" He asks in a soothing voice.

She nods silently.

"Ok. You keep doing that. I'll finish with your hair." Mike says softly, resisting the urge to kiss her bare shoulder as a sign of comfort. All he wants to do is hold her and cover her in a blanket of soft kisses until she falls asleep. He knows that's what he needs though, not her. And his needs don't matter right now.

Mike moves grabs the conditioner that she left in his shower months ago and he never returned. He brings it to cover her hair while she continues to slowly run the cloth over her skin. Finally when she's done, he helps her turn so that she can rinse the conditioner out of her hair.

Once he's done, his hands drift down to her shoulders and she winces under his touch. Mike removes his hands immediately. This is the first time she's pulled away from him. He leans in to ask what's wrong, and then he sees them. The bruises that are starting to form around her neck like necklace of shame. He can see thumb prints and splotches, and Mike wants to go down stairs, bring Toros back to life so he can kill that asshole all over again.

She turns around and finally looks up at him. It may be the first time she's actually seen him since he arrived. She wraps her arms around him and pulls him close. He brings his arms around her to gently cradle her in his arms. She cries into his shoulder and he holds her until the water turns cold and their skin is wrinkled.

"Come on. I'm going to put you to bed." He whispers finally once her tears subside, and he starts to worry she might catch a chill.

She follows him out and allows him to wrap another towel around her, drying her carefully and ignoring his own dripping wet state. He starts to walk her towards the door, but she pauses.

"Can I sleep here tonight?" This is the first time she's addressed Mike. Her voice sounds hollow and hoarse.

"Of course." Mike says immediately, turning to direct her towards his bed. "I can stand guard outside and-"

"No. I just… I just don't want to sleep alone." Paige admits. "I just need somebody there. If you don't want to, I mean, I know that we-"

"Anything you need." Mike assures her before she can voice any worries. "Let me grab you some clothes."

"Thanks." She says sheepishly as he hands her one of his t-shirts and some sweatpants.

"I'll give you a moment." Mike says, averting his eyes. He's suddenly remembering that she is very very naked and he is standing there in completely soaked clothing. He grabs some clothes of his own, and walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, but leaving it open a crack in case she needs anything.

Mike stares at his own reflection in the mirror with horror. How could he stand to look at himself? Everything he did hurt her. Everything. He feels the bile in his stomach, and he feels panicked and shaky and if he could just take one hit to calm down- and he hates himself even more that he even dared think it at a time like this.

No.

Mike needs to be strong.

He may not be who she needs right now, but he's the only one here and he will not let her go through this alone. He wishes Charlie, or Johnny or Dale or even Briggs were here to comfort her. Because Mike is certain he's going to mess this up to. He can't though. And he won't. Not again. Not this time.

Taking a deep breath, Mike strips off his clothing leaving them in uncharacteristic wet piles on the floor. He grabs a towel, and dries himself off before grabbing the dry clothes he brought into the room and putting them on. He tucks his pendent behind his shirt, and prays for the strength to help her through this before opening the door and walking bravely into his room.


	2. Chapter 2

The lights are out and she's curled up on her side on 'her side' of his bed. Mike cautiously approaches the bed, and hesitates for a moment before sliding in beside her. He keeps himself right on the edge, trying to give her some space. He's not sure if she's fallen asleep yet, but hopes she's able to find some peace. She at least was able to dress herself and get herself into bed.

"Where were you?" Her soft voice breaks the silence. It's not accusing. It's a simple question, but it breaks Mike's heart. He feels the tears prick his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I thought- I thought Briggs- Paige I swear I never would have- I didn't think-" Mike can't find the words to tell her how much he regrets his decision. At the time he was so convinced that Briggs was playing him. He hadn't thought she'd been in any trouble. She hadn't wanted backup, and he had agreed with her at the time. He hadn't thought she needed it. Things had just gotten out of control so quickly. The tears spill down his face, as he apologizes again and again, "Paige I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. This is all my fault and I- I never meant-"

"No, you were would have been nothing you could have done. He followed me from the church. I should have covered my tracks more. I should have-" Paige's voice is void of emotion. It's terrifying to Mike. He rolls towards her, wanting to wrap himself around, her but just brings his hand to her arm to squeeze it reassuringly.

"This was not your fault." Mike squeezes her upper arm, trying to make her see that.

"That was his biggest fear. Turning into his father. He didn't even know I was DEA. He attacked me and I couldn't get the upper hand. I wasn't strong enough…" Paige continues talking.

"You are the strongest person I know." Mike interrupts again. He knows he should let her talk, but she's wrong. She's so strong. So good. Things keep happening to her, and they're all Mike's fault. Time and time again, Paige is the one to pay for his mistakes.

"People keep dying and it's all my fault. I kill everything…" Paige says, her voice beginning to tremble.

"No. It's not your fault. None of it is your fault." Mike insists, wishing she would turn to face him so she could see it in his eyes. It was not her fault.

"Lina was. Colby. Torros." She finally rolls over to face him, and now Mike wishes she hadn't because the pain in her eyes slices through him. "Even you."

"No. No, it's not your fault. None of it is your fault. You have to believe me." Mike says the words, but he's not sure why Paige would believe him. Not anymore. He's wrong again and again.

 _It's mine._ Mike wants to tell her, but he's not brave enough.

He can't stand her self-hatred, but at the same time he can't bring himself to remind her who's really at fault here.

"I slit his throat. Just like his father… I saw his eyes when he realized what I'd done. I saw him realize he was dying, but he couldn't even cry out. He couldn't say anything. He was so excited earlier today. This was his family. His destiny. He was a scared little boy with an abusive father, and Marcez saved him from all that. He considered it such an honor. Today was supposed to be the best day of his life and instead I murdered him. I murdered him in the worst way possible. There was so much blood and I-"

"You did what you had to do. He sealed his own fate when he came here to hurt you. You had to defend yourself Paige. You had to." Mike wraps his arms tightly around her kissing the top of her head. "I'm glad he's dead. He hurt you."

"I've killed people in the field before, but never like this." Paige says, before taking a deep breath and asking in a shaky voice, "Mike, what if I'm the monster?"

"You're not." Mike says, looking down to meet her eyes.

"I think maybe I am." She says quietly, "In the last year alone four innocent people are dead. Because of me."

"Toros wasn't innocent and none of them were your fault." Mike corrects her quickly, "Besides, I'm still here."

She stares into his eyes, her own still glistening from her tears.

"Can you sleep?" Mike asks softly.

"I can't stop replaying it in my mind." Paige curls up closer against his chest. "I can still hear the sound of the blood pumping, of him choking on it, gasping for breath…"

Paige brings the pillow up around her head like she's trying to drown out the noise, but Mike brushes her hair back from her face and soothes her with soft murmers.

"Shhh… I think I can help." Mike says, sitting himself up on the edge of his bed, and bringing her up so her head is resting on his chest. He reaches over to his nightstand, picking up Anna Karenina the same book Paige had read aloud to him in this very bed in his time of need. Now he needed to return the favor. "I'll read to you until you fall asleep."

She curls up against him, her eyes still open staring at the wall ahead. Mike's not sure this will work, but he has to try. He opens to where they left off and in a soft voice begins to read the words out loud, " _All the girls in the world were divided into two classes: one class included all the girls in the world except her, and they had all the usual human feelings and were very ordinary girls; while the other class -herself alone- had no weaknesses and was superior to all humanity..._ "

He brings his hand to her hair and soothingly runs his fingers through her hair as he waits for her breathing to slow and for her to finally fall into a light sleep. He continues reading long after she falls asleep, trying to keep the demons at bay with each turn of the page, until the sun finally rises on the shore outside his window and the darkness fades.


End file.
